Coming Up Short

By T.V. LoCicero

This is a multifaceted treat: a sparkling collection of T.V. LoCicero’s best short fiction and non-fiction penned over the past five decades—14 stories, memoirs, essays and occasional pieces that are by turns brilliant, hilarious, moving and insightful. Together they offer a wonderful array of unlikely but vividly realized characters:
--A colorful black caddie who plays one of the strangest rounds in the history of golf.
--The mild, unassuming fellow often dubbed the greatest crime writer of our time.
--A Hall of Fame athlete whose decades of triumph ended in sudden death on a Manhattan street.
--A comfortable suburban matron who pays a charitable call on the squalid inner-city room of her long-time maid.
--The Little League dad whose compulsive flirtation with Lady Luck may cost him his thumbs, fingernails or the soul of his son.
--An earnest young reporter who thinks the witty, gorgeous gal he just met is too good to be true...until she claims to adore him, and then he’s got one small problem.
--A meddling spinster so perversely intent on helping her eccentric old housemate that nothing good can ever come of it.
--The author himself back in the day, divorced, broke, living in a refashioned garage and looking for a job that pays.

• Language: English
• Publisher: T.V. LoCicero
• Release date: Dec 1, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370635641

T.V. LoCicero

T.V. LoCicero has been writing both fiction and non-fiction across five decades. He's the author of the true crime books Murder in the Synagogue (Prentice-Hall), on the assassination of Rabbi Morris Adler, and Squelched: The Suppression of Murder in the Synagogue. His novels include The Car Bomb and Admission of Guilt, the first two books in The Detroit im dyin Trilogy, and The Obsession and The Disappearance, the first two in The Truth Beauty Trilogy, Seven of his shorter works are now available as ebooks. These are among the stories and essays he has published in various periodicals, including Commentary, Ms. and The University Review, and in the hard-cover collections Best Magazine Articles, The Norton Reader and The Third Coast. About what he calls his “checkered past,” LoCicero says: “At one time or another I've found work as an industrial spy; a producer of concert videos for Rolling Stone's greatest singer of all time; one of the few male contributors to Gloria Steinem's Ms. Magazine; a writer of an appellate brief for those convicted in one of Detroit's most sensational drug trials; the author of a true crime book that garnered a bigger advance than a top ten best-selling American novel; a project coordinator/fundraiser for a humanities council; a small business owner; the writer/producer/director of numerous long-form documentaries; a golf course clerk; a college instructor who taught courses in advanced composition, music and poetry appreciation, introduction to philosophy, remedial English, and American Literature--all in the same term; a ghostwriter; a maker of corporate/industrial videos; a member of a highway surveying crew; a speechwriter for auto executives; a TV producer of live event specials; an editorial writer; the creator of 15-second corporate promos for the PBS series Nature; and a novelist. “There is a sense in which that last occupation was the reason for all the others. Almost anyone who's ever tried to make ends meet as a novelist knows what I'm talking about.”

Book preview

Coming Up Short is a collection of T.V. LoCicero’s short fiction and non-fiction: 14 stories, memoirs, essays and occasional pieces. Several have delighted readers on Goodreads and Amazon:

"Hilarious…this story made me laugh out loud."

Excellent character studies with horrific overtones that reminded me some of Kathy Bates' character in the movie ‘Misery.’ Creeped me out…

…has a true life feel to it and am looking forward to more fun reads from this author as a result.

Definitely worth your time if you have ever played or watched sports.

Very interesting, well written.

…an interesting and moving narrative about the relationship between an affluent Caucasian woman and her African-American housekeeper.

…an entertaining story…with an ending twisted as neatly as a saltwater taffy wrapper.

Funny!…I could read a lot more by this author.

Included are two never-before-published stories, as well as Dutch on Dutch, a remarkable interview with novelist Elmore Leonard that colleagues and fans have been praising since it was first published soon after the great crime writer passed away in 2013:

…a fantastic interview—amazingly rich and informative and wonderfully telling of his character.—Victoria Best, Tales from the Reading Room

…he has a way of demystifying the process, treating it not as being some gift from the gods, nor as being easy but as a craft that has to be worked at.—Bill Kirton, author of The Figurehead

"…reminded me what a pleasure it was to talk with Dutch. It captures his dry sense of humor, his sharp analysis and his natural humility."—Kevin P. Giblin, Amazon

A delight. This is a charming, meaningful and educational conversation with one of the very best.–Greg Jolley, Goodreads

The collection concludes with two pieces—We’re Not in Manhattan Anymore and Moving Books—that offer a surprising look at the author’s strange publishing history.

Also By T.V. LoCicero

Novels

Sicilian Quilt

When A Pretty Woman Smiles

The Obsession (The Truth Beauty Trilogy, Book 1)

The Disappearance (The Truth Beauty Trilogy, Book 2)

The Car Bomb (The detroit im dyin Trilogy, Book 1)

Admission of Guilt (The detroit im dyin Trilogy, Book 2)

Babytrick (The detroit im dyin Trilogy, Book 3)

NON-FICTION

Murder in the Synagogue

Squelched: The Suppression of Murder in the Synagogue

COMING UP SHORT

A Collection of Fiction and Non-fiction

By T. V. LoCicero

T. V. LoCicero

T.V. LoCicero has been writing both fiction and non-fiction across five decades. He is the author of the true crime books Murder in the Synagogue (Prentice-Hall), on the assassination of Rabbi Morris Adler, and Squelched: The Suppression of Murder in the Synagogue. His novels include Sicilian Quilt, When A Pretty Woman Smiles, The Obsession and The Disappearance (the first two books in The Truth Beauty Trilogy), and The Car Bomb, Admission of Guilt and Babytrick (The detroit im dyin Trilogy). Eight of his shorter works are available as ebooks. These are among the stories and essays he has published in various periodicals, including Commentary, Ms. and The University Review, and in the hard-cover collections Best Magazine Articles, The Norton Reader and The Third Coast. About his self-described checkered past LoCicero says:

"At one time or another I've found work as an industrial spy; a producer of concert videos for Rolling Stone's greatest singer of all time; one of the few male contributors to Gloria Steinem's Ms. Magazine; a writer of an appellate brief for those convicted in one of Detroit's most sensational drug trials; the author of a true crime book that garnered a bigger advance than a top ten best-selling American novel; a project coordinator/fundraiser for a humanities council; a small business owner; the writer/producer/director of numerous long-form documentaries; a golf course clerk; a college instructor who taught courses in advanced composition, music and poetry appreciation, introduction to philosophy, remedial English, and American Literature—all in the same term; a ghostwriter; a maker of corporate/industrial videos; a member of a highway surveying crew; a speechwriter for auto executives; a TV producer of live event specials; an editorial writer; the creator of 15-second corporate promos for the PBS series Nature; and a novelist.

There is a sense in which that last occupation was the reason for all the others. Almost anyone who's ever tried to make ends meet as a novelist knows what I'm talking about.

Fixed

by T. V. LoCicero

Copyright 2012 by T. V. LoCicero

Smashwords Edition

First published in Swank: 1976. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

The Visit

by T. V. LoCicero

Copyright 2012 by T. V. LoCicero

Smashwords Edition

First published in Green’s Magazine: 1975. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Shrunk

by T. V. LoCicero

Copyright 2012 by T. V. LoCicero

Smashwords Edition

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

A Round with J.C.

by T. V. LoCicero

Copyright 2012 by T. V. LoCicero

Smashwords Edition

First published in The Third Coast, by Wayne State University Press: 1982. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

The Jungle Plant

by T. V. LoCicero

Copyright 2012 by T. V. LoCicero

Smashwords Edition

First published in The University Review: 1966. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

The Combination

by T. V. LoCicero

Copyright 2016 by T. V. LoCicero

Smashwords Edition

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Keep the Change

by T. V. LoCicero

Copyright 2016 by T. V. LoCicero

Smashwords Edition

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Why I’m Here

by T. V. LoCicero

Copyright 2016 by T. V. LoCicero

Smashwords Edition

Dutch on Dutch

Edited by T.V. LoCicero

Copyright 2014 by T. V. LoCicero

Smashwords Edition

The Lessons of Sport

by T. V. LoCicero

Copyright 2012 by T. V. LoCicero

Smashwords Edition

Selling the Bison

by T. V. LoCicero

Copyright 2012 by T. V. LoCicero

Smashwords Edition

First published in The Detroit Free Press: June, 1973.

A Child’s Gift

by T. V. LoCicero

Copyright 2016 by T. V. LoCicero

Smashwords Edition

First published in Monthly Detroit, September, 1979.

We’re Not in Manhattan Anymore

by T. V. LoCicero

Copyright 2016 by T. V. LoCicero

Smashwords Edition

Moving Books

by T. V. LoCicero

Copyright 2016 by T. V. LoCicero

Smashwords Edition

License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

For more information on this and other works by T.V. LoCicero please visit:

www.tvlocicero.com

For Emery

Author’s Note

Searching for a common theme that might run through all these disparate pieces, I settled finally on the title of this collection. I know, coming up short is among the most common of human experiences. It may in fact impact more of us more often than just about any other occurrence. And, of course, if you look at life over the long haul, no one has ever done anything but come up short. Except for the Grim Reaper.

Old timers among us may recall Peggy Lee singing Is That All There Is? A huge hit back in the ‘60s. Maybe because it described a feeling that all of us have experienced even in the wake of one of life’s triumphs, a shinning achievement or a deep wish come true. For some, those kinds of moments come rarely if ever, but even when they do, they can leave something to be desired. They can come up short.

The prospect of gainful employment, a desperately needed gambling score, a well-meaning act of charity, a twisted exercise in self-justification, a search for insight and understanding, a decades-long quest for personal redress—each is etched in promise and hope in these stories, but in the end none is fully realized. Yes, you’ll find some moments of genuine gratification and human connection here but, I think, not enough to render our title and theme less than apt.

T.V. LoCicero

November, 2016

Table of Contents

Description

Also By T. V. LoCicero

Title Page

About the Author

Copyright

Dedication

Author’s Note

FICTION

Fixed

The Visit

Shrunk

A Round with J.C.

The Jungle Plant

The Combination

Keep the Change

NON-FICTION

Why I’m Here

Dutch on Dutch

The Lessons of Sport

Selling the Bison

A Child’s Gift

We’re Not in Manhattan Anymore

Moving Books

OTHER BOOKS

FICTION

Fixed

A Story

All right, so this mess started a few years back when I was yanked up roots and all by that huge oil Godzilla I work for, the one that’s always telling you on the tube how they’re God’s gift to the earth. You know, if we stop pouring our shit into the sea tomorrow and burning it into the air, there goes the ecological balance of the entire planet, right?

Okay, so one day the Company comes to me and says, Son, we need you up north. You’re gonna leave the Big D and move your family to another Big D. As if there could be any kind of effing comparison.

Anyway, so we come up here to Detroit, and it’s like moving to an effing foreign country. We buy this French Provincial ranch house in the outskirts of this exhaust-pipe metropolis, in this sub-division where nobody talks to nobody, called Hidden Ravines. Can you believe Hidden Ravines? And pretty soon I find out I’ve been plucked up from a job I knew and performed like a superstar and dropped into a position where I don’t know my ass from a hidden ravine. You’ve heard about this idea that people are always getting promoted beyond their level of competence? Well, I’m the A-number-one classic example.

So of course the big bonus no longer arrives, right? But the bills do, and we have these humungous payments to make on the mortgage, a new car, every household appliance known to man, three Oriental rugs, a new winter wardrobe for the family, including several furs for the little woman, right? A Great Dane for her and the off-spring in case they don’t make friends right off, two huge shade trees for the back patio and flowering quince to fill the hole the dog dug.

Naturally without these little items, God forbid, we’d suffer the unspeakable cruelties of suburban deprivation, right? Needless to say, our financial condition after only a few months is enough to make a strong man scream in cosmic terror.

And so with all this, what I call my monkey comes back to eff me. My first experience with the monkey started innocently enough (always does, right?) in my last year at the U. when we won the conference title. I’m the team’s leading pass-catcher that year, and they all keep saying I have this great pair of hands. It sounded like the hands worked on their own, and I had nothing to do with it. Also, it was like they were saying, Yessir, fans, he’s got one of the finest peckers to come out of Dallas in the past 35 years. Really, when you think about how these sports gabbers talk about athletes, it’s kind of obscene.

Anyway, a few of us boys decided we might as well cash in on a good thing, right? So in our last game we manage to cop a very big bundle by betting against ourselves and keeping our winning margin just under the point spread. Actually, it was a thing of beauty, but afterward I was struck down naked with guilt, and I swore to my God I’d never wager another cent.

Well, I lasted nearly a decade until that one abysmal weekend on our second-honeymoon trip to Vegas. After that I’m hooked: Cars, frogs, horses, dogs, fighting cocks, anything that moves I bet on. The monkey is back with its claws in my ass, big time, and simultaneously squeezing my balls blue. And before long my marriage is about to go on the effing rocks. My wife, who is a beautiful woman but a little short on sympathetic warmth, finally gets fed up with my pathetically limp pecker and presents me with the old ultimatum: Shape up or ship out. She actually effing said that.

So what can I do? I’m playing for all the marbles, and I make this truly remarkable effort, I throw myself into my work, I take up smoking and drinking, and I finally unhook myself. It was a thing of which to be effing proud.

But now comes the big move to Automobileland. And now I can’t lose myself in my work anymore, and liquor and cigarettes just ain’t enough, right? So the debts start piling up and all the old temptations are flying back at me stronger than ever, until I’m thinking of absolutely nothing but that one trifecta solution to all my problems.

And so I’m off again, sneaking out to the track in the middle of the afternoon, placing midnight phone-call wagers on f-ball and b-ball games, actually every sport known to man, even curling matches over in Windsor, until this win-some-lose-some kick and the strain of hiding it all from my wife has nearly buggered my will to shave in the morning.

Then one afternoon this poor old fart rooting on the rail next to me at Hazel Park keels over and croaks right there in my arms. And he was mumbling something about Gamblers Anonymous. It very frankly scared the living shit out of me, and I figured I better try this G. A. thing before my wad is completely shot.

And so I was amazed, right? I mean, no anguish, no torment, just these group therapy sessions and these prophylactic phone calls to and from these other monkey-ridden members. And inside of a few weeks my monkey has taken his hairy ass elsewhere. I tell my wife that G.A. is a precaution against this faint urge that was raising its ugly head, and she’s so proud she goes out and buys me three new sport coats.

Okay, so our finances are worse than ever, but at least I can say I haven’t placed a bet in two months. Also, I have a little more time to spend on the off-spring, my only son John. I mean Johnny was always the one who got short-changed the most when the monkey was on me. Anyway, I come to find out that my son’s in the process of becoming the biggest thing in the history of the local Little League. I mean this kid is breaking pitching and hitting records every time he walks on the field.

This I got to see for myself, right? So in the first game I go to, Johnny tosses a no-hitter and belts two homers. And words fail, cannot begin to convey what it felt like to see that healthy young replica of my own adolescent self cavorting around that ball diamond.

Okay, so I’m a Proud Pop, but I’m telling you this kid has more speed, more grace, he is bigger and stronger than any kid on the field. And he’s got these big blue eyes and all this wheat-colored hair, and I mean he’s already got these little 12-year-old hussies trying to bust their little titties right through their T-shirts.

All right, so I start going to all the games, right? And pretty soon I’m getting to know some of the other rabid-fan parents. And to my surprise, I find two other dads from G.A. showing up all the time. And pretty soon we’re bonding, we got this camaraderie thing going on, and we’re enjoying ourselves so much that no one even winces one night when one of the guys suggests a little two dollar bet to allay, he says, the more powerful urges lurking within. Well, of course, we all know better. This is strictly, totally verboten. But we’re all having such a blasted good time, and what could be more harmless than putting a couple of effing bucks on your kid’s Little League game, right?

Anyway, the game becomes immediately more interesting, and although we keep this up for a couple weeks, it doesn’t seem to be leading to anything more extravagant, and we’re all pleased and happy and even proud of ourselves.

In fact we we’re all having such a ball I still can’t remember exactly how it happened. All I know is one morning a couple of weeks later I opened my lids with this teeth-chattering ache in the middle of my forehead and 5,000 buckaroos riding against Johnny’s team in the up-coming district championship.

Vaguely in my hung-over haze I remember Carter—the one who advocated for that first therapeutic bet—saying things about Texas and a real man’s gambling that challenged my state pride and personal virility, right? We cut a deck, I think, to see who’d get which team, and we placed the little wager with Carter’s Mafia bookie, so it just ain’t renege-able.

And so the five grand I don’t have is already lost, right? Because Johnny is head and shoulders above any kid his own age, any nine kids together for that matter, and he’ll win the thing single-handed. And so I’m scheduled for the grisly fate of the Mafia loan shark victim, with only my thumbs severed or my fingernails yanked out, if I’m lucky.

And I’m sweating there in my den on this sweltering August night, and I’m thinking, right? And what I’m thinking is twisting me